Shades of Mai
by snickerdoodle12
Summary: Mai is a rich but simple girl with one best friend. She yearns for excitement and adventure, and on top of her wishes there is a quiet boy at school whom she finds herself wanting to spend more and more time with. A general story of her life in our world.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N – No clue where the heck this came from. The Zutarians almost got to me last night, so I need some Maiko. Kataang is too fluffy for what I'm thinking right now. This will only be a few chapters, if I even decide to continue it at all. I don't own Avatar._

* * *

_He is a bad boy._

_Misunderstood, quiet, mysterious…maybe even dark._

_But who am I to judge?_

I'll tell you who I am. Mai Konata. Daughter of the governor, but practically invisible. I have one best friend, Ty Lee Evans, and even though I know she'll leave me one day to join her "popular" friend Azula, I'm embracing the days we have left together like they're sacred. In a way, they are.

"You _so_ like him," she teases in a sing-song voice.

"Who?" I ask. Of course I know exactly who she's talking about, but I'll pretend, because the truth is she might be right.

"That emo kid," she says. I snort.

"I don't even know him. And he's not emo. He's just shy."

"You're defending him!"

"So?"

"You like him, I _know_ you do. And I don't blame you, even though he's all weird and dark and stuff, he's pretty cute. I mean I've never really seen his face because of all that hair, and he's always in the shadows…what was I saying?" I sigh and shake my head.

"Leave it, Ty Lee." I sit down on the soft grass of our favorite spot. It's a big hill looking down over the town where you can see the sunset from an amazing view. She settles down next to me.

"Really, Mai. You're always sad. Maybe a boyfriend would be good for you," she suggests.

"Who are you, my therapist or my friend?" I joke. She giggles.

"Nobody said I can't be both."

* * *

_No one really knows him; the mysterious factor._

_He doesn't talk, and sits by himself at lunch. He barely eats._

_Sometimes he's classified as "emo" or "a loner," but most people just call him a freak._

_Me? I think he's misunderstood. I wouldn't have any friends at all if Ty Lee wasn't so outgoing. Maybe he has trouble meeting people. Maybe he really is shy._

_One thing's for sure, he's not emo. He doesn't wear any makeup or black nail polish and he doesn't constantly flip his hair. He leaves it be, shading his amber eyes. He usually has on skinny-ish skinny jeans and plain T-shirts. He doesn't wear the labeled clothing and his skater shoes are all scuffed up._

_If anything, he would be labeled as "lonely skater boy"._

* * *

I silently nibble at my sandwich while Ty Lee sits there, droning on and on about clothes and hair and boys. The usual things girls talk about at a school lunch period. But am I usual? No. I'm stealing glances at Skater-Boy in between sips of water, praying that Ty Lee doesn't notice.

_He really is cute_, I think. The hair slides away from his face when he looks up expectantly at the person just walking up to his table.

"Go away, freak," the boy says. When the silent teenager doesn't move, the he gives his reason. "Look around. This is the only available table." Skater-Boy shrugs and continues eating, but the bully sits down and pushes him. I let out the breath I was holding when he catches himself and stands up before hitting the ground. He turns and leaves the room.

* * *

"No."

"But it's so cute!"

"_Mom_."

"Please?"

We're at the mall, and I'm standing before my begging mother in a frilly pink baby doll top and denim miniskirt.

"It's not my thing," I explain gently. She frowns a little and talks to me while I go back into the dressing room.

"Mai, we have the money. Why not use it?"

"But I could get things I _like_with it instead of things like this. I look like Azula."

"I think Azula dresses quite nicely," she argues. I sigh, stepping out of the dressing room in my own clothes.

"Jeans. Jeans and T-shirts and maybe new shoes. That's all I want, Mom."

"Fine. And what do you have against Azula, anyway? Your fathers work together, you go to school with her, and for goodness' sake, you used to be friends! What happened?"

"I don't know," I answer, shrugging. Then turn away and murmur, "I guess I got tired of being a slave."

* * *

"I'll let you guys off easy today," our history teacher, Mr. Drake, says. Mr. Drake is one of those cool teachers who likes to "connect with his students" by letting us address him by his first name; Drake. Of course, the strict school only allows it if we put "Mr." in front of it. So that's why instead of Mr. Laughlin, he's Mr. Drake.

"All you have to do is a worksheet," he continues, passing them out. "Look up the answers in your textbooks. And since I know I can't trust some of you to work alone," he says, with a quick glance at Azula, "I will pair you up with a classmate. Jet, pick a name from this hat," he orders, holding out the paper-filled fedora. Jet carelessly reaches in and pulls one out.

"Ty Lee," he reads aloud. She smiles and gives him a girly little wave, and Jet winks, sending his girlfriend, Azula, off the edge. I really don't like Jet, but anything that makes Azula angry amuses me. I hold back laughter as Mr. Drake walks up to me. I grab a paper and unfold it quickly.

"Zuko," I say, wondering who he is. I look around the classroom, hoping my confusion isn't obvious. Suddenly, Skater-Boy raises his hand in a still-wave, and I gather my books.

_Zuko_, I think, moving to the desk next to his. _Interesting name._

I set down my things and take a seat.

"Uhm…hi," I say lamely. Zuko nods in greeting and leans back in his chair. "Do you know what page we're supposed to be on? 'Cause I don't remem-"

"672," he replies simply.

"O-okay, thanks."

He shrugs. "It's on the board."

I look to the front of the room, and, sure enough, "672" is written in bold, chalky letters.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"For what?"

"Ah…I don't know." I self-consciously fix my hair and see a smirk grow on Zuko's lips.

Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

* * *

_A/N – So, here's chapter one. Please vote on whether or not you think I should continue this. Oh, and somewhere in there I put, "skinny-ish skinny jeans." That was NOT a typo. :D Thanks!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N – I don't own Avatar! Or Myspace! Or AIM!_

* * *

"I think it's yen."

We're studying Japan. I don't know why, but…we are. Zuko had just read aloud question number nine - _What is Japan's currency?_ – and I had answered.

"Yeah, I think that's right."

"I'll check," I say, flipping through the book. "Yeah. Right here, yen." I put my finger down on a photograph of a coin. Zuko nods and pencils in his answer. I do the same.

Eventually we finish all twenty questions and sit there quietly. I look over to Ty Lee, obviously flirting with Jet. I see Azula give her multiple nasty looks but the bubbly teenager doesn't seem to notice.

"Why is Azula such a pain?" I groan. The rhetorical question was half to myself, but when I hear Zuko snort I turn to him.

"Try living with her," he mutters.

"What-" Suddenly the bell rings, cutting me off. Zuko stands up and swings his black backpack over one shoulder.

"She's my sister."

I honestly can't believe I didn't guess. There's definitely resemblance; black hair, brown eyes, pale complexion. Except for Zuko's height & the difference in bone structure, they could probably be twins.

I grab my books and exit the classroom.

"Zuko, huh?" Ty Lee says as I catch up to her in the hall. "Nice name. So what did you two talk about?"

I pause. Maybe I shouldn't tell her about the sibling thing yet. Obviously they don't want anyone to know.

"Nothing," I lie. "We just did the work. How about you and Jet?"

Her eyes get big and dreamy, and her mouth grows into a shining grin.

"I like him a _lot_. And I think he likes me, too."

"But…he's not single. Didn't you see Azula glaring at you? They're dating."

"Not for long," she says in a sing-song voice. I just sigh and follow her lead, as usual.

* * *

_Click-Click. Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap. Click._

My noisy computer mouse and keyboard echo through the silent library. Dad is having a meeting at home, so I decide to settle down at my usual getaway: the computer at the end of the row in our local library.

_Zuko_, I type into the Myspace search box. Over 400 hits. Not too bad.

I look at each of the ID pictures, hoping to see those amber eyes, that silky black hair, his scar…but I'm halfway through and haven't found anything. It also occurs to me that he might not even have a Myspace.

_Desperate,_ I think. _Looking through hundreds of ID pictures? You're desperate._

But it's not like I have anything better to do.

For some reason, my thoughts float to Zuko's scar. I wonder how he got it, and when. Then I see it. I actually see his face on the computer screen. I have found Zuko's Myspace.

I click the link and see his ID picture, now enlarged, on the upper left corner of his page. It's actually really good…he's looking slightly to his right, his eyes full of fatigue. His eyebrows are drawn up the smallest bit, and the background is a gloomy set of clouds. According to his profile he likes photography which, now, doesn't surprise me. He only has eight friends. I decide to send him a message.

_hey zuko, it's mai…you know, from mr. drake's history class? somehow I found your myspace & i'm just saying hi so…yea. hi._

I regret it immediately after hitting the send button. It was incredibly stupid…but a few minutes later I get his reply.

_hi mai. i checked out your page too. cute picture._

I'm absolutely beaming and begin my reply.

_ha, thx. yours is cool too. i didn't know you liked photography._

Send. A few minutes later…

_yea, I don't exactly advertise it._

_it's really good, though._

_thanks. (: hey, do u have a s/n? we can talk faster on IM._

I can't help but smile through our small conversation.

_yea, i'll sign on. LadyOfTheDaggerz is my s/n. u?_

_LadyOfTheDaggerz? xD that's random. mine is ZukoAlone16._

_haha, i know. it's weird. P k, talk to you on IM._

I send a friend request to Zuko before closing the window and opening up AIM, the whole time thinking how funny it is that I'm so much more confident when I can't see his face. It's actually not funny; I don't like it. I add "zukoalone16" to my pathetic buddy list.

_zukoalone16: hey_

_ladyofthedaggerz: hey_

_zukoalone16: anything new happen in the 2 mins we stopped chatting?_

_ladyofthedaggerz: haha, nope. u?_

_zukoalone16: not rly. my dad just got home._

_ladyofthedaggerz: cool_

_ladyofthedaggerz: oh wait, was he at my house?_

_zukoalone16: is your dad Lee Konata?_

_ladyofthedaggerz: yes_

_zukoalone16: then he was at your house_

_ladyofthedaggerz: meetings over then. I should probably get home._

_zukoalone16: oh, ur not home? where are u?_

_ladyofthedaggerz: library, where all the dorks go_

_zukoalone16: haha, ok. see u tomorrow._

_ladyofthedaggerz: bye_

_zukoalone16: & mai?_

What does he want?

_ladyofthedaggerz: yea?_

_zukoalone16: you're so not a dork._

_zukoalone16 is offline and will receive your IMs when signing back in._

* * *

_A/N – I wanted to see how I could pull off e-conversations…crosses fingers Please tell me how I did. Sorry for the short/boring chapter. The next one will include more stuff! (I promise.) Also, please don't tell me that they're "going too fast". Mai & Zuko are simply becoming friends. (Yay!) One last thing; forget what I said about this being only a few chapters. I have absolutely no idea how long it will last._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or Nissan.**

* * *

Zuko's words carry me through the rest of the night: doing homework, playing with Tom-Tom, talking to my mom…all I hear is, "you're so not a dork."

Even though he only typed the words, I can hear his voice in my head. And it wasn't a huge compliment; it was barely a compliment at all. But anything positive from Zuko is a miracle.

The next day I practically fly through my first six classes. History is quiet. Mr. Drake lectures us about the ancient Japanese government system. Fun.

In lunch, Zuko sits at his usual empty table. I sit at mine with Ty Lee, who basically orders me to talk to him.

"I'm tired of you sitting here ignoring me while I talk. The only thing that might actually get you to stop staring at that boy is if you talk to him! So go."

"But what am I even supposed to say?" I ask. She pulls me up.

"You told me he likes photography, right?" I nod. "Talk about that!"

"But-"

"Go!" She gives me one final shove and smiles encouragingly. I decide that I can't win, so I walk over.

"Hey, Zuko," I say. He looks up from his laptop.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Oh, uhm, nothing, I…I was wondering if maybe you had some…anymore…pictures…I could see. Maybe," I stammer. He looks a little confused, but answers.

"Yeah. I'm actually loading some onto my laptop right now. Here." He slides over on the bench and turns the laptop slightly in my direction. I take a seat next to him, my heart pounding, and look.

"Awesome," I say. He shrugs.

"I have better ones in my darkroom at home. Are you doing anything after school?" I think for a moment, then shake my head. "You can come over and see them if you want."

_Better than the library,_ I think.

"Cool. Thanks." Zuko makes a face, somewhat resembling a smile, and turns back to his laptop. The rest of the period consists of more downloading and subtle small-talk.

* * *

"Fancy," I say, the jet-black Nissan Altima coming into view. Zuko takes the keys out of his pocket.

"It's okay, I guess. A little flashy for my taste, but it gets around." I slide into the passenger's seat. The tan leather interior doesn't make a sound as I click in the seatbelt and settle myself. Zuko takes his seat and turns the key in the ignition.

"So, now you know I like photography," he says once we pull out of the school parking lot. "But I don't know anything about you, other than you like libraries."

I shrug. "There's not much to tell."

"Come on, you don't have any hobbies? Drawing, cooking, writing…?" He snaps his fingers. "You sing." I laugh.

"Definitely not."

"Yeah, okay. I bet you're the next American Idol or something and you just don't want anybody to know." That makes me laugh again. He smiles.

"Try again, Zuko."

"Umm…do you play any sports?"

"Not really. I play with my little brother, which is tiring, but other than that, no." He sighs.

"What do you do all day, then?"

"Usually Ty Lee and I hang out."

"Wait, Ty Lee…is she that hyper girl you sit with at lunch?"

"Yeah," I say, amused at his description.

"And what do you do with her?"

"I don't know…we walk or go out to eat…sometimes she'll drag me to the mall. We just talk."

"About…?"

"That's getting a little personal, don't you think?" He smirks.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On what you talk about."

"Just stuff."

"It sounds like stuff you don't want to tell me about."

"Hey, your first right guess!" I joke. He chuckles and says,

"It's about time." I smile.

Suddenly the car slows down, and he pulls into the driveway of a large white house with wide windows and a perfect garden.

"Whoa, you live here?" I ask. He nods silently, shutting off the car. I grab my books and open the door, taking in the scene around me. It's a quiet neighborhood, fenced in from the rough parts of our town. The houses are large and the sky is barely visible through all the buildings and artificial trees. It's pretty gloomy without the sun. I follow him up the front steps. I know my house is big, but his could be considered a mansion.

Zuko takes another key, unlocks the front door, and opens it to reveal lots of rooms with big, empty spaces surrounding the furniture. It's all extremely clean. What first catches my eye is the wide staircase to the left of the living room. He leads me up it, down the lengthy, carpeted hallway, and into his bedroom.

"You can put your stuff wherever," he says, dropping his keys on the nightstand by his bed. "Shoot, I forgot my backpack in the car," he mutters to himself. I look at him, and he decides, "Whatever. I'll get it later." I place my books on his desk and proceed to ask,

"So where's this darkroom?"

He motions for me to follow him and leaves the room. He takes me back downstairs, then to a door which I thought was connecting a basement. But when he opens it, I see a large, spacey room. On one side is a long table with bottles of chemicals, tubs of liquid, and some scattered negatives. There are some smaller tables and some chairs randomly placed around the room. His photographs hang from the ceiling and walls. Some are framed, some are simply clipped on a line by clothespins.

I silently look around while Zuko takes down some pictures from the far side of the room. I meet him at the center. We sit down and he lays the enlarged photos out on the table. I look at each one of the three very carefully.

The first is a landscape photo, the sun rising behind rows of green, grassy hills. Kind of typical, but still breathtaking.

Second, a black and white shot of a swing set, taken diagonally. I can see what he's trying to illustrate by the motionless swings; something along the lines of growing up, and missing simplicity and innocence, but other than that it's not too different from what I've seen before.

His third photo I like the most. It's the night sky, completely brimming with silver. The starshine turned the blades of grass at the bottom to silver. It looks as if he took the picture while lying on the ground. It's simple, but beautiful.

"Wow," I murmur.

"What do you think?" he asks.

"These are really, _really_ good. Especially this one," I say, pointing to the third. He frowns a little.

"Really?"

"Yeah. The other two are nice, but this one special, you know? It's different." He thinks a little, then begins to nod.

"Yeah. Thanks." Suddenly my stomach growls, and I see amusement fill Zuko's eyes.

"Hungry?" he asks. I just smile and nod.

We leave the darkroom and head into the kitchen. Zuko opens the refrigerator.

"Any preferences?" I shake my head. He pulls out a pitcher of lemonade and pours it in two cups, then passes me a remote control.

"Here. See what's on."

While he rummages through the cabinets, I'm flipping through channel after channel to find something interesting on TV. He sits on the stool next to me and places a plate down in front of us.

"Cheese and crackers?" I ask, amused. He shrugs and takes a bite of the cheddary yellow cube. I hand him the remote and he picks up where I left off.

"I don't want to be rude, or nosy, but don't you have maids and butlers and stuff?"

He swallows the food.

"You're not rude or nosy. You're confident. And I gave them the day off."

I cock my head. "Why?"

"Well, to be honest, they're annoying. I mean I know they work hard, and I appreciate that, but sometimes I just need to be alone, you know?" I nod. "I mean I know I'm not alone, since you're here, but if—well, they…I-"

"Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and eat the cheese."

He laughs, but does exactly what I said. We talk some more and then it's time for me to go.

"You want a ride home?" he asks, following me down the stairs after I retrieved my books.

"Umm…would that be okay? I mean if I lived nearby I'd just walk, but since-"

"It's no problem," he says, cutting me off. I smile and say,

"Okay. Thanks."

We walk outside and get into the shiny black car once again. I tell him which places to turn, which roads to ignore, and everything he needs to know to get to my house. He pulls into the driveway and hands me my books.

"Thanks again," I say, stepping out. He nods. Before I shut the door I lean back inside.

"Hey, wanna sit with us at lunch tomorrow? Ty Lee and I, I mean." Zuko smiles.

"Sure. See you then."

I smile back and gently but completely close the car door. I'm aware that as I walk inside, he is watching me to make sure I get in okay. I give him a wave from the doorway and he returns it, then backs out and leaves.

* * *

_A/N – PHEW. I stayed up until 2:30 in the morning writing this in my notebook! I'm telling you, I was on a roll. Actually, it was 2:33 to be exact. Anyways, I'm pretty happy with this, except for the ending. Also, I feel like this chapter is missing some of that beloved awkwardness, so I promise more in the next one. :D I know, two chapters in two days. What can I say? I'm enjoying this story, I hope you are too._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

"Out with Ty Lee?" Mom asks when I walk into the kitchen. I lean down and give her a hug.

"No," I say.

"No? What were you doing, then?"

I sit down at the table with her and reach across to pat Tom-Tom lightly on the head. He giggles noisily.

"I was with another friend. Zuko." Mom furrows her brows in confusion.

"I don't recall ever meeting him."

"We're not that close."

"Well, whoever this boy is, he's put you in a strangely good mood."

Smiling, I roll my eyes and start up the stairs.

"Don't ruin it."

Her laughter fades as I reach my bedroom. I close the door behind me and grab the phone, dialing Ty Lee's number, because I know she's expecting a call. She picks up immediately after the first ring.

"Finally!" she says. "I've been waiting for you to call me all afternoon. I was carrying my phone with me everywhere! Anyways, tell me everything."

I smile at her chattering.

"Nothing really happened," I say. "He showed me his pictures, I told him they were good, we ate, and he drove me home. Most-"

"HE DROVE YOU HOME?!" she squeals. I wince and hold the phone an arm's length away.

"Yes. Why?"

"Mai, that means he's interested!"

"It means he's my friend."

She sighs.

"He could've let you walk or call someone or catch a bus. But did he? No. He cared enough to drive you all the way from—where does he live?"

"Some rich private community. I don't know the name."

"Right. The point is, he went out of his way for your sake. If that's not interest, then I don't know what is."

I stay silent for a moment. Then,

"He was probably just being nice."

"Think what you want, Mai. But when you want boy advice, a teen magazine addict like me knows best."

We both break into laughter, and in between it I scold her on her cheap joke. Then she has to leave.

"And I told him he could sit with us at lunch," I say before she hangs up.

"That will be interesting."

"Shut up," I laugh. She giggles.

"Bye, Mai!"

"Bye."

* * *

I sit silently at the table with Ty Lee, both of us nervously eating our sandwiches. She's nervous because the rumors say Jet will break up with Azula today. Normally I would ignore that drama, but since Ty Lee's so into Jet I guess I'll let her fan girl over him as much as I can handle.

Why am I nervous? There's a certain teenage boy with long dark hair and beautiful amber eyes coming my way. I think it's obvious.

He sits down across from me and places his lunch on the table.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi."

For a few seconds we stay quiet, and then Ty Lee saves us.

"I'm Ty lee. Hi," she introduces herself with a smile.

"Zuko," he answers with a nod.

Suddenly there's a commotion at the table in the center of the room.

"What?!" It was Azula.

"You heard me. We're done," Jet says.

"No. No. You can't break up with me; I'm dumping you."

"Can't dump a boyfriend you don't have." Jet stands up and exits the cafeteria. Azula storms out the opposite door, her little slave army in hot pursuit. The room breaks into noisy applause, and I'm not surprised. All the guys want Azula, all the girls want Jet, and then most people just enjoy the show.

I nudge Ty Lee, who looks frozen in delighted shock.

"It happened. It actually happened!" she exclaims. Then she gets up and goes, probably in search of Jet, leaving me and a very confused looking Zuko to sit and stare.

"What's up with her?" he asks.

"Same thing as every other girl in this school. Did you_ not _witness that miracle five seconds ago?" I say sarcastically. Zuko chuckles.

"I see. Now Jet's available."

"Yeah. I give him till tomorrow to stay single."

"He probably won't make it past this lunch period." I smile, then an uncomfortable silence settles between us.

"So…uhh, are you doing anything this weekend?" I ask, finally.

"I don't think so. Why?"

"I was thinking...maybe we could hang out. I...I want to see where you take those pictures."

"Sure. I can pick you up on Saturday. What time?"

"Uhh…like three?"

He nods.

"I'll bring my camera."

"Okay."

As the awkwardness of no speaking returns, Ty Lee's words come back to me. I can't help but think about what she said when I told her Zuko drove me home.

"And thanks for driving me back yesterday," I say once I can't take the thoughts anymore.

"Mai, you've thanked me three times now. _You're. Welcome."_

"I know, but…you live pretty far away-"

"Which is why I couldn't let you walk," he interrupts. "And anyway, you're good company."

Before I can say anything else, lunch ends.

* * *

"How was school?" Mom asks. I drop my books on the table and shrug.

"Same as always. But I have plans on Saturday, okay?"

"With that boy?"

"Zuko," I correct her. "And yes."

"What're you two doing?"

"He's a photographer. He's taking me to some of the places he takes pictures at."

She nods. "Is it a da-"

"No," I say immediately. "No, Mom, it is _not_ a date. He's just my friend."

She sighs and shakes her head.

"Whatever you say."

* * *

The next two days, Thursday and Friday, go by pretty quickly. Ty Lee has been hanging out with Jet and his friends a lot, so it's just Zuko and me sitting together at lunch. It's pretty weird, but gives me a chance to get to know him better.

When Saturday finally comes I'm a nervous wreck. I'm tearing through my closet looking for something to wear. It's odd; before I met Zuko, picking out clothes was simple. Easy. No big deal. And I know he probably couldn't care less about what I'm wearing, but I still feel the need to perfect my outfit. Like that'll ever happen.

A rainbow—or more of a rain_cloud_—of colors fly out of my closet: blues, grays, purples, blacks, greens, even a little red. Anything but orange. I hate orange. It's not like I'm goth or anything (I hate being stereotyped anyway) but lots of bright colors make me nauseas.

Eventually I settle on my light blue jeans, black converse sneakers, and black T-shirt with organic purple patterns.

I stuff twenty dollars in my pocket just in case, then head downstairs to wait. The clock reads 2:58, so it's not long before I see a little black car drive down the road. I hurry to the door, then stop myself. Calm down, Mai. You're going out with your friend. Your_ friend. _Calm. Down.

I recollect my composure and step outside and into the perfect spring day, which really isn't all that perfect to me. I prefer cool, rainy nights. But I guess when you're going to be outside, the weather is alright.

"Hey," I say, sliding into the car. It seems like it's always that one word; hey. Zuko nods and waits until I close the door to pull out of the driveway. He seems distant and a distracted as he turns the wheel, just barely missing our mailbox. His eyes are nervous and clouded. I wonder what's going on, but let it go. For now.

* * *

_A/N – Awh, poor Zuzu's upset. You'll see. :P Yes, I included Mai's disgust of the color orange. And her "strangely good mood". Will there be cheesy Maiko lines in this story like there are in the show? …I'll try my best. :D_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

Only when we're five minutes into the drive do I ask a question.

"Where are we going?"

"It's an old park where I took that swing picture," Zuko answers, his eyes never leaving the road. The rest of the short drive is pretty much silent. Then Zuko pulls into a small, empty parking lot. We exit the car and I follow him to the back. He opens the trunk to reveal his camera and a black duffel bag, probably holding supplies. He picks up the bag and swings it over his shoulder, then winces like it's painful.

"You alright?" I ask. His neutral expression returns and he nods.

"Just…kind of sore."

"From what?"

Zuko doesn't answer me, just proceeds to take out his camera and hand me the stand. Again, I forget about it. It's probably not important.

I help him set up the equipment, then sit down at the bottom of a slide. He stands behind the camera, looking around for a good place to take pictures. I close my eyes and lean back on the slide, linking my hands behind my head. I hear Zuko moving but ignore him. The gentle breeze ruffles my bangs and the sun is warm on my face. Suddenly I hear some clicking. He's finally found something to take pictures of. I drown out the camera noises and continue laying there until I'm just dozing off. Then I feel a warm touch and open my eyes.

"Hey…I didn't want to disturb you, but I'm done here. Were you sleeping?" Zuko asks. I shake my head.

"Almost."

I look to my left and see Zuko's hand still on my arm. He sees it, too, and immediately pulls away. If I didn't know better I swear I saw the faintest trace of pink cross his face. He stands up and begins walking toward the car.

"Uhh…I put everything back already. Let's go."

I follow him back to the parking lot and strap myself in.

"Where now?" he asks.

"Isn't that your decision?"

"Not necessarily. We have two options: one; we can go to this big hill overlooking mountains, or two; we can eat."

"Well…I'm hungry, so, can we eat?"

"Sure."

Before turning the key, Zuko rubs his shoulder a bit, and I begin to think more seriously about his strange behavior.

"What did you do to yourself?" I ask.

"What?"

"Your shoulder."

"Oh…ah…I don't know. I probably hit it on something and forgot." I can see from his face that he's lying.

"Whatever," I murmur. He grumbles something and starts the car.

* * *

It's a small, family-run Italian restaurant. Ironic that it's called "Little Italy". It's pretty much empty except for a few families and a couple or two. The host leads us to a booth in the back and hands us menus. It's not long before a waitress comes by and takes our identical orders: water and pasta.

The meal was similar to lunch in the way that we mostly just eat and talk a little only when we're finished. The waitress brings us the check and I begin to dig in my pocket.

"I'll pay," Zuko says, putting down the money.

"You're driving me everywhere. Let's at least split it."

"Seriously, Mai, you don't have to-"

"The tip?"

Zuko thinks for a moment, then nods.

"Fine." And then he mumbles, "Girls are so stubborn."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought," I say, smiling. He laughs a little.

"You ready to go?" he asks.

"Yeah."

We leave the restaurant and get back in the car, heading for whatever hill Zuko was talking about. We take some vacant back roads to get there. It's a longer drive than our first two stops. Finally the car slows down, and I almost get out, but he tells me,

"Hang on."

He quickly takes the car off-road and up the hill while I stifle a gasp. We drive up the grassy form and he pulls over at the top.

"_Now _you can get out."

I roll my eyes at him and then do exactly that. He pops open the trunk and takes everything out while I sit down under a tree. After a few minutes he turns to me.

"You wanna try?"

I shrug and stand up.

"I don't really know how."

"I'll show you."

"…Okay."

I walk over to the camera and place my hands where I think they're supposed to be. I thought wrong.

"No, you've gotta put it here," Zuko says softly, taking my right hand and placing it wherever it's really supposed to be. I realize, then, that he's standing right behind me, very closely. And his hand is still on mine. I look back at him.

"Uhh…right, thanks."

He picks his hand up and continues directing me.

"Now you look through the lens. When you find something you want to take a picture of, press this. Got it?"

I nod and he takes a step back. I follow his instructions carefully, turning the camera on its stand until I see what I want. The sun is almost behind the mountains; it will probably be setting in a few moments, turning the scenery around it to gold. Even the grass at my feet has a sparkly tinge. I take a few shots of that, and a couple other things, then turn back to Zuko. He's looking at me thoughtfully, his arms crossed over his chest. Then he nods once. I'm not sure how to take his gesture, but give a weak smile anyway.

Now I start to walk away from the camera. Zuko takes his natural place behind it and does his own thing. Quietly, I sit down on the roots of a large tree and lean my back against the trunk. The sun is setting now, casting shadows over the mountains. The quiet has returned, but it's not awkward. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of Zuko's breathing. It's so calm and peaceful, so serene that it actually puts me to sleep.

I wake a while later to a hand gently shaking my shoulder. It's dusk now, the sun has set and the moon is beginning to rise.

"It's getting late," Zuko whispers. "I should take you home."

"Yeah. Sorry," I say, standing up. He seems slightly amused.

"It's alright. I just hope it wasn't boredom that put you to sleep."

"Not really."

We gather the equipment and place it back in the trunk, then get in the car.

"Did you get any good shots while I was sleeping?" I ask, stifling a yawn. Zuko smiles mischievously.

"Yes."

"Why do I feel like I should be worried about that?"

He chuckles. "I don't know. But you shouldn't be."

"Whatever you say."

"You'll see for yourself when I get them printed."

"Which will be when?"

"Soon." When he sees I'm not satisfied with that answer, he adds, "Like Tuesday, maybe. You want to come over then?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

A little while later we're pulling into my driveway. I step out of the car and give Zuko a small wave of gratitude. He smiles and backs out, then goes down the street. I walk up the front steps, noticing how no one leaves the porch light on for me, and step inside the house full of emptiness. By which I mean how no one is ever home but me and the maids.

It's not like I don't appreciate my parents' work. They make good money. But it's those little things I want, the tiny gestures that go unnoticed and the small tasks people take for granted that I crave. That I don't have. As far as I'm concerned, I barely have parents. They're my roommates. My mom tries to be all friendly with me, and it's annoying but at least there's effort. My dad? He couldn't care less. I don't pay any attention to money or social status or material possessions. I want my parents, not workaholics, to live with. But I'm ordered to stay quiet, to not draw any attention to myself. A single outburst would put my father's political career in jeopardy. And I know someday I'm going to regret keeping this all inside. Someday, I'm going to explode.

* * *

_A/N – Well, there's my little version of Mai's angst…I hope it was angsty enough. And I kinda feel like I'm making Mai a little too sunny, like she needs to be more…emotionless on the outside, kind of. Do you agree or do you think she's alright? Let me know, please. Thanks! :D_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

_Mai,_

_Working late today. Let's talk tomorrow._

_Love,_

_Mom_

I take the handwritten note off the kitchen counter and crumble it up, then toss it into the trash can.

_Working late;_ Shocker. _Let's talk;_ After four of these notes a week you'd think we'd have talked by now. _Tomorrow;_ Ah, yes, that day never comes, does it?

_Love._ Hmm.

--

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Who's this?"

"What do you mean, 'who's this'? It's me."

"'Me' who?"

"Ty Lee! It's Mai."

I hear the perky teenager chuckle into her phone.

"Ohhh, okay! I didn't check the Caller ID. Hi."

"Hi," I mutter, already annoyed. She should know my voice by now.

"So, what's up?"

"Nothing really, we just haven't talked in like a week."

"Has it been a week? Wow, I didn't even notice! I've been spending a lot of time with Jet. Did I tell you I'm his girlfriend now?"

"No. We haven't talked, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, I am."

Silence.

"Aren't you happy for me?"

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess."

"If _you_ got a boyfriend I'd be happy for you!"

"Ty Lee, of course I'm glad that _you're_ happy. I'm just anti-fangirl or something. You know that."

"I guess," she sighs. "So, anything happen with Zuko yet?"

"If by that you mean him liking me back, then no. And where did that 'yet' come from? It's possible-probable, actually-that he'll never like me more than he does."

"Why wouldn't he like you?"

"Can't I just tell you the reasons why he _would_ like me? It's a much shorter list."

"Ouch. Attack your own self-esteem, much?"

"There wasn't much there in the first place."

"You got that right."

"Not helping."

"Why should I help you if you won't even help yourself?"

To this, there is no answer. I can't believe I'm saying this, but…Ty Lee makes a good point.

--

The rest of my Sunday consists of a chic but oh-so-uncomfortable couch, old DVDs, and one too many bowls of ice cream. When I tell people about my heavy eating habits, usually they don't know what to say, because it doesn't show. I mean, I'm not trying to be conceited or anything, but I am rather skinny. I was just born that way, according to my mother. She also thinks that the protein from the food I eat goes to my hair instead of my body, because it's so shiny and I'm so thin and tall. But that makes me feel like there's something wrong inside my body. Whatever; if it means not having to worry about what I eat, it's fine with me.

Before I know it, Monday's here, and I'm half-asleep in homeroom; my usual morning activity. The next few classes drag by, and then I'm in History, preparing to do the same thing. But as I look around the room, my eyes stop briefly on Zuko, and he smiles at me. I offer back only my own tired expression, holding in a yawn, and he laughs a little.

A few minutes later something lands on my desk, and I almost jump, then realize it was just a piece of paper. I unfold it under my desk and push back in my chair to read it so Mr. Drake doesn't see.

_Not a morning person?_

I figure the sketchy print is Zuko's, and take out a pen to write my reply on the same page.

_No. But nice aim, you woke me up._

I think about how I'm supposed to give it back to him without the teacher seeing, but then I see him walking by my desk, his palm up. I stuff the note into his hand and he walks to the side of the room, getting a tissue and putting the note in his pocket.

He's smarter than I thought.

He goes back to his desk, reads, writes, and this time I'm ready when the paper hits my desk again. But the thing is, I don't even get to unfold it, because Mr. Drake is standing right in front of me, his expression angry, and his arm outstretched.

He's dumber than I thought.

--

I hurry out of the classroom, trying to make it to my locker and then the cafeteria before the next bell rings. Mr. Drake had kept Zuko and me after class to give us a "quick speech" on paying attention instead of chatting. Ironic how I caught only half of the lecture because I was dozing off.

Somehow I slide onto my bench in the cafeteria with half a minute before the bell. Zuko, on the other hand, is not so lucky, dragging himself in about five minutes later. When I call him on that, his expression gets even gloomier.

"I would've been here in time, but first I fell, then the janitor yelled at me for getting the floors muddy after he cleaned them. Then the lunch lady told me to stop running, and sent me back to the end of the hall to 'correctly walk down it.' It's not funny!" He says when he sees me starting to laugh.

"I'm sorry Zuko, but I disagree."

"So you find humor in my misery?"

"First of all, it's not misery. You're being overdramatic. And second, yes. Yes I do."

He sighs, taking the lunch out of his brown bag.

"At least somebody's Monday is a little better."

Just then Jet walks by, Ty Lee draped over his arm. I give her a halfhearted smile and glare at her boyfriend. He sees this and purposely knocks into Zuko's back, not even looking at him, thinking it would annoy me. Real mature.

"Dude," he says.

"What?" Jet turns around.

"You just hit me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your feelings, freak?"

"Well usually when someone hits me they have the guts to look me in the eye and apologize."

Jet snorts. "I'm not scared of you. And I didn't apologize because it wasn't an accident." He looks Zuko up and down. "You won't get an apology outta me, but if you want, I could give you a scar to match that one."

Zuko narrows his eyes, just about to reply, and I look to Ty Lee. Our gazes lock for barely a second when I find we're both thinking the same things. She squeezes Jet's arm more and whispers something, and I quickly go over to Zuko.

"Come on, he's not worth it."

"You mean beating this jerk until he's a halfway decent person isn't worth the punishment?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"You've got to be kidding me."

I sigh, grabbing his sleeve and leading him out of the cafeteria.

"You are so dense."

"I could've taken him!" he argues.

"I know you could've. But that's not what I'm saying."

"Then what _are_ you saying?"

"That it's pointless."

"How?"

"Do you really think hitting Jet until he's unconscious and you're expelled will make him a better person?"

"Not really," he sighs. I decide to change the subject.

"How are the pictures coming out?"

"Pretty good. I still have to work on a few of them tonight. They'll be ready tomorrow. You, uh, want to come over?"

"Yeah. Please," I add. Lately I've been struggling to remember manners, which is odd considering that that's what I've been taught to do all my life. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and we begin to walk opposite ways to our lockers.

"See you then," he says over his shoulder.

"Yeah. See you."

* * *

_A/N – Next chapter you'll find out why Zuko acted strangely when talking about the pictures in chapter 5. Muahahaha. :D If you think you know, please do NOT spoil it in the comments. Please! :)_


	7. Chapter 7

It's finally Tuesday afternoon, and I'm in more anxiety than ever. I'm having one of those days that seem to drag on even more than usual because the universe hates me and knows I've been waiting for something.

Yeah, that kind of day.

When the last bell finally rings, I make it to my locker and out to the parking lot in record time. Then I remind myself to slow down. It's not like I want to just wait out by his car while he takes his time. So I reduce my pace to a comfortable walk and begin to look around. Why am I so excited, anyway? Because of the pictures? How mysterious Zuko acted when talking about them? Please. Zuko's whole excistence is a mystery to me. But then again, I don't have much patience with figuring _him_ out, either.

And as if the universe decides I've suffered enough, here he comes now, walking that effortless bad-boy walk that I have memorized so well.

I turn the other way and slow down even more to stay unnoticed while letting him make it to the car before me. Once I'm sure he's there, I rest my gaze on the sleek, black vehicle and let myself go a little faster.

"Hey," Zuko smiles, still leaning against the door on the passenger's side, arms crossed.

"Hey. Ready?"

"Yup."

He takes the keys out of his pocket in a complicated-looking way, then lets his other hand brush over the small of my back while I open the door and he walks around to the other side. It's impossible to ignore the chill that runs down my spine, but at least I can hide my pleasure until we reach the house.

--

"Zuko!"

"What?!"

"_Why_ did you do that?"

"Come on Mai; just look at them."

"I am."

"And…?"

"And…it's me."

Standing barely a foot into the darkroom, I am no longer pleased. In fact, I want to hit him.

I step up to the pictures, sighing, when he doesn't respond. It's easy to tell that he had taken these when I fell asleep against that tree. I have to admit, besides that fact that I hate having my picture taken, these are really good. The sun is at just the right angle so everything looks like it's glowing, and the breeze gives it a late-summer look even though it's April.

"What were you thinking when you took these?" I ask, my voice softer this time.

"I think it's fairly obvious," he murmurs, coming to stand next to me. I turn to mirror his position, my body fully facing his.

"Not really."

"Not even a little bit?"

"All I get is that you like taking pictures of sleeping people."

"Just some," he smiles.

"Elaborate?"

I watch as he takes a deep breath, looking down at one hand. I hide my amusement when I see the smudged black handwriting on the palm of it. Before he can say anything, I take that hand, holding it up between us. He opens his mouth to object.

"No cheesy practiced sentences," I say, smirking.

"Then I guess I just can't tell you."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Show me?"

I realize now that we had been stepping closer together with every statement. But I don't care. His lips grow into a smirk too, and his head leans down, getting closer and closer to mine…

"Zuko?" A deep, unfamiliar voice interrupts us, and we snap into straight positions, keeping our bodies at least a foot away from each other.

"Dad? What're you doing home?" Zuko asks, his confusion not nearly as clear in his words as the embarrassment. His father narrows his eyes, his seemingly permanent frown deepening.

"My business is mine and mine alone." He says it very simply, but with just enough ice to make me internally cringe. Zuko doesn't answer, so the man steps in from the doorway. "Well, aren't you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?"

"…Right. This is Mai." I notice how he hesitates on account of his father's cold tone, but doesn't refuse the term _girlfriend._

"Mai," he nods. Then he looks at me thoughtfully. "You seem strangely familiar, but I don't believe we've met."

"My dad is Lee Konata. Maybe you know him," I suggest in a bored tone, speaking for the first time since he cut us off.

"Ah, yes. You two look alike. Governor Konata." Then, quietly, like it was more to himself than anyone else, "I certainly hope he is a better father than leader."

I narrow my eyes at him but say nothing. If my dad really does parent better than he governs, I don't know how he still has his job.

"Dad," Zuko says, a warning in his golden eyes.

"Don't try defying me again, Zuko. You'd only be making things worse for yourself."

While his eyes cloud with memories, his hand inches up to his left shoulder, the one that had been bothering him that Saturday, and everything finally clicks.

--

"You could've told me, you know. I wouldn't have reported it or anything."

I say this to a very pathetic-looking Zuko across the lunch table. I am beyond annoyed. Does he not trust me?

"I know, just…I was scared. I was scared _you'd_ be scared. And that we couldn't…if you knew, you wouldn't…"

"…Wouldn't like you?" I guess. He nods, receiving a sigh from me. "I don't care about your parents, Zuko. My feelings toward them are totally unattached to my feelings for you." I almost blush a bit at my blunt confession, but he doesn't seem to notice – does he ever? – so I go on. "And besides, if that's your dad, your mom can't be that bad…is she?"

"Well, she wasn't. She was great, actually. She died of some disease when I was little."

"What disease?" I ask, almost whispering. We're leaning towards each other now. He shakes his head, his voice even smaller than mine when he answers.

"We still don't know."

"Sorry," I mumble hesitantly. "And your scar…"

"It was him. For a while after my mom died, he was depressed, and now he's hooked on alcohol. His favorite thing to hit, burn, kick – whatever – was always me. Still is."

"What about Azula?"

He snorts. "She's daddy's little girl. Too perfect to even go near when he's drunk."

I bite my bottom lip, suddenly feeling sorry for him. All this time I thought his scar was just a stupid mistake he'd made. And I understand why he didn't want to tell me. He didn't want to be rejected again.

"Well, she's not so perfect anymore," I say, trying to change the subject a bit. I know Zuko's just naturally not a happy person, but this was too gloomy a setting for me to resist attempting to make him feel better.

And it's true, too. I've seen Azula staring at him with that wistful look in her eyes, that new hunger. She's jealous that all the people she now hates – her brother, her ex-boyfriend, and her two ex-best friends – are reasonably happy while, for once, she's miserable.

"True," he answers. "She hasn't insulted me in like a week. Actually, she's barely spoken to anyone since Jet dumped her." He stops, seeing me looking over at her. "What?"

"Maybe I sound paranoid, but I can't help feeling like she's up to something.

Zuko pauses before speaking, looking at me carefully.

"You're right. You sound totally paranoid." I sigh. "Come on, Mai, she's not up to anything."

I keep my disagreement to myself, taking out my lunch. I know Azula. I know every wicked part of her brain. If there's one thing she can't stand, it's being betrayed. She's always been in-control, ruling from her pyramid of cheerleaders. And if someone takes her spot at the top, she has to knock them down before getting back in place.

She wants revenge. And Azula always gets what she wants.

* * *

_A/N – You all know it's true. ;) So again, sorry about how short and uneventful this chapter was. It's basically a set-up for what I have planned. This is almost where the plot really kicks in. Don't give up on me just yet! Also, I apologize for how long it's been. I was recently hospitalized for a week, then I had lots of stuff to make up for school, and then my usual mountain of homework. Not that that's any excuse, but it's some of the reason for the delay. I love you guys and I love your reviews. :)_


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